Advanced
by DarkandtwistyGirl
Summary: The cancer was more advanced than the surgeon thought. Faith's journey through breast cancer. *Complete*
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Third Watch, or the characters thereof. This is just for fun.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

For NYPD Officer Faith Yokas and her husband Fred, the past weeks had been fraught with uncertainty and fear, ever since Faith had been diagnosed with breast cancer during a routine check-up.

Now they stood in a sterile hospital room deep within the walls of Angel of Mercy Hospital, waiting for Faith to be taken into surgery. The married couple were hardly on the same page about what was happening, while Faith was trying her best to prepare herself for the worst case scenario, the stark reality that depending on what the surgeon may find when he cuts her open, she might lose her life; Fred was floundering, and in how he acted, he denied his wife the support she so desperately needed.

The surgeon, Dr Grayson had seemed confident before the operation that it would be a simple lumpectomy. The scans showed only two moderately sized lumps in Faith's right breast, it was not until Dr Grayson started the surgery did it become apparent that the cancer was more advanced, more aggressive than previously thought.

It was not an easy decision, but ultimately Dr Grayson knew that it was the choice that gave his patient the best chance of living to see her kids grow up; he abandoned the lumpectomy procedure, converting to a modified radical mastectomy.

* * *

><p>After the operation, Faith was taken to the surgical recovery room, where the nursing staff cared for her as the anaesthetic wore off.<p>

Fred was allowed in to sit by Faith's side in the recovery room after he had spoken to the surgeon; the news that his wife's cancer was more advanced, and as such Dr Grayson had needed to perform the mastectomy, had hit Fred hard. Fred had dismissed his wife's fears of exactly this outcome, and now when she woke up, he knew that he had to be the one to tell her that she had lost her right breast, and was facing chemotherapy and possibly radiation.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile on the streets, oblivious to the situation that his partner was currently living through, Officer Maurice 'Bosco' Boscorelli was complaining bitterly to fellow officers, and medics that he had been assigned a very nervous, rookie partner while Faith was on 'vacation'.<p>

* * *

><p>To everyone who didn't truly know her, Faith seemed to cope reasonably well given the situation. Just five days after the operation, Faith was allowed to go home; she had been planning to return to work the following week, but now that seemed unlikely.<p>

Fred's parents had taken the kids to stay with them while Faith recuperated. Faith was resting on the couch, as Fred called his parents to ask if the kids could stay with them another couple of weeks; Fred thought that his wife wasn't listening, he had gotten just past hello, and it seemed as good of a time as any to ask the favour of his parents, "So Mom listen, Faith's operation didn't go so well. ... No, no, Mom she's alive. ... No, the cancer was more advanced than they thought; they had to take the whole breast, and we've got an appointment with an oncologist tomorrow. ... It's okay, we'll be okay. But listen Mom, I really need to focus on Faith right now, she's in no shape to do anything, can you and Dad keep the kids at your place for a few more days? ... Thank you. ... I don't know Mom, they want to do chemo, maybe radiation... I don't know if she'll beat it, it's bad. We'll maybe know more after seeing this doctor tomorrow. ... Yeah, I'll let you know how everything goes, tell Em and Charlie that I'll come see them on Saturday, and please just tell them that we love them. ... Thanks Mom, yeah, I'll talk to you tomorrow night. ... Bye."

* * *

><p>The next morning Faith got dressed, for the first time since her surgery incidentally; she threw on a pair of slacks and a cream coloured blouse. She was alright, going through the motions, until she caught a glance of herself in the mirror, Faith could barely contain the sea of emotions that suddenly flooded her.<p>

Where before Faith had filled the lightweight blouse perfectly, she now felt lopsided, imperfect; for the first time since puberty Faith felt ugly. The tears started to fall, and that is how her husband found her just a few minutes later.

"Faith, you nearly-" Fred stopped, seeing his wife's distress, "What's wrong?" He asked compassionately, wrapping his arms gently around her.

Faith was sobbing, "It's gone Fred ...it's gone."

"It's okay, Faith. We'll sort it out, you've got that prosthetic that the hospital gave you, do you want to put that on maybe? Make yourself feel a bit more normal?"

Faith cried for close to an hour, before Fred finally managed to calm her down; soon after they were sitting opposite the oncologist, Dr Knight in his office.

Laid out in front of them were numerous booklets and printouts describing various aspects of the planned treatment.

"Faith, thank you for coming in today; I understand that Dr Grayson has referred you to me to discuss the post operative treatment options for you."

"Yeah, that's about right. This is my husband, Fred," Faith said; now back behind her usual facade.

Dr Knight extended his hand to Fred, "Good to meet you." He then got back onto topic, "I'm afraid that we have limited time today, so I'll just run through what Dr Grayson and I have discussed, and then if you have any questions please feel free to ask."

"Sounds fine," Faith replied before Fred had a chance to complain.

"Firstly I will just go over the pathology report from the analysis of the tissue that Dr Grayson removed, and your most recent scans. The tumour was an invasive breast cancer, which we already knew from the biopsy, but the pathology also revealed some things that we did not know. The cancer is much more aggressive than we initially thought, which is not good, but there was no evidence that it had spread to your lymph nodes or anywhere else in your body, that's a good sign."

"But it's still bad, isn't it?"

"Yes, but not as bad as it could be. The cancer you have is a high grade, stage two cancer. It isn't what we might have hoped for, but it can be very successfully treated with a course of chemotherapy, and in my professional opinion you stand a good chance of recovering fully."

"What sort of chemo are you going to do?"

"The regimen that I think will be most effective in your case is a combination of three chemotherapeutic drugs, fluorouracil, epirubicin, and cyclophosphamide. We'll use a carefully coordinated regimen which consists of between four and six cycles of treatment where we will give you these drugs, and then give you three weeks for your body to recover from the chemotherapy."

"Is it going to make me sick?"

"Honestly, yes it most likely will. The potential side effects of this regimen include a lowered resistance to infection, bruising and bleeding more easily than usual, mouth sores and ulcers, anaemia, nausea and vomiting, fatigue, you will lose your hair completely unfortunately, you may also find that your periods become irregular, they may stop entirely."

Faith heard this, and still she seemed to take it in her stride. "Whatever it takes, I just want this gone."

Not realizing his patient's inner turmoil, Dr Knight took Faith's words at face value, "That's a very good attitude to take, you'll do alright." After pausing, the oncologist continued to explain the treatment, "I will arrange for you to start chemotherapy on Monday at the chemotherapy unit downstairs, they will call to confirm the time. I would also like you to consider having a minor procedure to place a central line in your chest. Now, a central line is very much similar to an IV, like what you would have had in your arm before, except that a central line is placed directly into one of the major veins that lead to your heart. We often choose to place central lines for patients undergoing chemotherapy, because over time the veins in your arms can become sclerosed, hardened, it makes even a routine blood draw quite painful. Is the central line something that you would consider?"

* * *

><p>Faith started treatment the following Monday, the regimen that Dr Knight had prescribed meant that she only needed to have chemotherapy one day out of twenty-one, but that didn't mean that the treatment was easy on her. Far from it.<p>

The day that Faith started chemotherapy was the day that she was supposed to return to work, she forgot it completely, until nearly nine o'clock that night. Faith had been throwing up almost constantly since they'd gotten back from the hospital, only now was the nausea starting to subside, she was lying in Fred's arms as they watched a movie, when the thought struck her, "Oh damn it!"

Fred looked at his wife, puzzled, "Faith? What's wrong?"

"Can you get me the phone? I've got to make a call."

* * *

><p><em><strong>TBC...<strong>_

_**Thanks for reading! Please take a moment to drop me a review.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Third Watch, or the characters thereof. This is just for fun.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

The precinct was relatively quiet, and as he had no more pressing matters at the time, Lieutenant Bob Swersky was sitting at the main desk, answering the phones. "Fifty-fifth precinct, Lieutenant Swersky speaking," Swersky said, repeating the words for the umpteenth time that night.

"...Lieu, it's Faith Yokas. I need to talk to you."

"You missed your shift today, Officer," Swersky kept his tone firm, though Faith's words already had him deeply concerned.

"I know I did, and I'm sorry," Faith paused, "I wasn't in Jersey the last couple of weeks, Lieu. I had surgery-"

"What? Are you alright?"

"I have cancer. It was worse than what they initially thought, I was in hospital longer, and today I was having my first chemotherapy treatment."

There was a long silence, before Swersky replied, "Is there anything I can do?"

"...Don't tell anyone. I don't know how much it's going to affect me, but when I come back to work I don't want anyone treating me differently."

"Of course. When do you expect that you will be ready to come back to work?"

"I really don't know," Faith replied; the nausea was coming back, and she wanted to get off the phone, "Look boss, I've got to go, but I'll give you a call when I'm up to coming back. Alright?"

* * *

><p>In the days that followed Faith barely had the strength to get out of bed; Fred did everything for her, he brought her drinks, tried to get her eat small but frequent meals, he cleaned up when she was sick, and made sure that she took her prescribed medications, everything.<p>

The kids came home four days into Faith's chemotherapy treatment, seeing their mother so ill frightened them, but Faith kept a brave face, she told them, promised them in fact that she would get better, eventually.

* * *

><p>As she underwent the treatment, Faith tried to keep up a composed facade, but as she stood in front of her bedroom mirror, brushing her hair, only to then find that considerable sized clumps of her hair were falling loose with every brushstroke.<p>

It had now been three and a half weeks since Faith started chemotherapy; she'd had her second dose of chemotherapy earlier in the week. Faith knew that it was only a matter of time before her hair started falling out, but actually having it happen, seeing all the strands of long blonde hair, her hair caught in the hairbrush.

"Oh god," Faith murmured; she was afraid to look up at the mirror, knowing what she would see. Her breaths started to come in shorter, shallower gasps as panic set in; Faith felt that it just wasn't fair, she'd already lost a breast, this was simply too much for her to bear.

* * *

><p>Faith's youngest child, Charlie was the one to find her, sitting in the corner of her bedroom, still clutching the hairbrush, trembling as sobs tore through her.<p>

They hadn't told Charlie very much at all about what was happening to his mother, and for him to see her so scared and vulnerable was terrifying to the young child. "Mommy?"

Faith looked up, dried tear tracks tracing down her face. Seeing her son, who now also was in tears, Faith snapped out of her stupor. Dropping the hairbrush, Faith put her arms out to Charlie, "Come here, baby."

Charlie seemed hesitant, but after a moment he flung himself into his mother's arms.

They stayed frozen there, sobbing and holding each other, Faith whispering words of apology and comfort to her son for what felt like hours, but in reality it was probably no more than five or ten minutes. Finally, in a timid voice Charlie looked up at his mother, and he asked a question that broke her heart, "Mommy, are you dying?"

Faith held her son as close as she could, wishing more than anything that she could take away her son's fears, and in a voice no stronger than her son's, Faith replied, "I'm really trying not to," For her son, Faith then forced herself to seem more in control than she felt at that moment, and tell him, "I'm very sick Charlie, you know that, but the doctors are giving me some medicines that will make me feel a bit sick for awhile, but then I will get better. I've got too much to live for to let this stupid cancer kill me; I've got you, I've got your big sister and your dad. We're going to get through this, okay bud?"

"You promise?"

"I promise, Charlie."

* * *

><p>Later that night after the kids were tucked in bed, Faith approached her husband about an issue that had been troubling her for several hours. The emotion had passed, and Faith was back in control, she had made a decision.<p>

"My hair started falling out today, Fred. I want to shave it off, can you help me please?"

Fred was stunned, but he knew better than to argue. "If it's what you want."

"It is."

Fred pulled his wife close, kissed the top of her head gently. "Give me a couple of minutes, we'll do it in the bathroom. Okay?"

* * *

><p>Faith stood in the doorway of the small bathroom, watching her husband gather what was needed, until eventually it seemed that everything was ready. Fred had placed one of their dining chairs in front of the vanity, Faith sat down in the chair, she barely noticed as Fred draped a spare sheet over her shoulders, her attention was focused on her own reflection in the mirror that over the years had been half covered by Disney stickers.<p>

Her long blonde hair, it seemed impossible to think that in just minutes it would all be gone. Faith didn't even know what she would look like, if her own children would still recognise her.

"Are you ready babe?" Fred's voice broke into Faith's thoughts.

Shaking her head briefly, as if to clear her head, Faith sighed, and after taking a final moment to run her hand through her hair, she replied, "Yeah, just do it."

A strange feeling of numbness overcame Faith as she watched locks of her hair fall to the tiled floor, she knew that it should be upsetting to her, but somehow it just didn't hit home, it didn't even feel real.

* * *

><p>Even still the next morning Faith didn't truly absorb the fact that her appearance had changed so massively, not until the kids woke up. Faith was feeling alright, she was getting the kids' breakfasts ready, while Fred was sitting at the dining table reading the paper, that all changed when the kids saw their mother.<p>

Emily came out of their bedroom, closely followed by Charlie. It was Emily who made the remark, "Mom? Why'd you do that to your hair? It's really ugly."

Faith's reaction was instantaneous, she dropped the butter knife she had been using, it fell to the floor with a clang that rung through the dead silence. She all but ran from the room, locking herself in the bedroom.

Fred could hear his wife's distraught cries, as the sound echoed through their small apartment, he was certain that the children could hear it too, and while he felt for Charlie, who seemed upset and confused, part of Fred did not want to offer comfort to his older child. He thought that he raised her better than to say such a thing, to her mother of all people.

But Fred's paternal instinct overrode his feelings, maybe they had taught the children better, but they had also failed to keep their children in the loop when it came to their mother's illness; maybe if he could explain it to Emily, Fred rationalised, then maybe their family could move past this.

"Em, Charlie, come over here," Fred said, motioning for his children to join him at the table. Slowly the kids approached, and took the offered seats. "Thank you. Now, remember how I told you that your mother is very unwell, and that she needs to have some medicines to make her well?"

Both children nodded in the affirmative.

"Alright. Well, the medicine that the doctor is giving your mom to make her well, chemotherapy, it has some side effects, it's going to make her sicker for a little while, but then she's going to get better. You know that your mom's been throwing up a lot. That's one of the side effects; another one is that her hair has been falling out. It upsets me a lot too, but we all need to be strong for your mom; she needs to know that you both are okay so that she can focus on getting well. I know that Mommy looks really different, but she's still the same person, and we need to support her, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy. I'm sorry," Emily said; to that Fred had only one answer.

"It's not me that you need to apologise to, Em," Fred replied sadly. "Now, come on and grab your bags, get down to the bus stop or you'll be late for school again."

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later, once he'd gotten the kids out the door for school, Fred turned his attention to his wife, who was yet to emerge from their bedroom. Faith screams had quieted, but that only worried Fred more.<p>

Apprehensively, Fred approached the bedroom; he tried the handle, still locked. He called through the door, "Faith? You alright babe?" Silence. "Faith, come open the door, please baby, open up." Still no response. Sighing, Fred pulled out his wallet; the locks that they had installed were able to be opened from the other side with a coin, he opened the door as he had done so many times before when the kids would throw tantrums, locking their parents out; he never thought that he would need to do this with his own wife though.

Cautiously Fred eased the door open, not sure of what he would find waiting for him on the other side. Faith was under the bedcovers, hidden completely from sight, the only movement Fred could was the rapid rise and fall of her chest. "Faith, come out babe. I've sent the kids off to school; Emily wanted me to tell you how sorry she is that she said that. They were just surprised, she didn't mean it."

"It's not just going to be Emily; everyone's going to be thinking the same thing, even if they don't say it, Fred."

Fred sat down on the side of the bed, as Faith gradually pushed back the covers; Fred pulled his wife into his arms, comforting her. "It doesn't matter what they say, babe. You're beautiful, and I love you; that's what matters."

* * *

><p><em><strong>TBC...<strong>_

_**Thanks for reading! Please take a moment to drop me a review.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Third Watch, or the characters thereof. This is just for fun.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Only a week later, Faith and Fred decided that it would be for the best if she was to return to work on a part-time basis. Faith had withdrawn too much, physically she was doing alright, but the emotional effect of spending weeks in the apartment was taking its toll.

Dr Knight had approved the idea, agreeing that Faith was medically fit enough to work while still undergoing the chemotherapy treatment.

Lieutenant Swersky was a man of his word, and he had not discussed Faith's illness with anyone, he hadn't even written it down. When Faith called asking to return to work part time, after he established that she was medically fit to return, Swersky was more than happy to arrange a part time schedule with her; until Faith's treatment was finished, she would 'share' her position with probationary Officer Gusler. Faith would work a block of ten days, then have eleven off, working around her treatment schedule.

* * *

><p>It was a nerve wracking experience for Faith, the first time she returned to the precinct; she was wearing an impressively realistic wig, the wig was similar to her previous hair colour, but Faith had opted for a shorter, modern style, mainly for the reason that it stayed on much better than others she had tried, and just days before, Faith had bought a proper prosthesis, unless you knew, from a distance you wouldn't be able to tell that it wasn't her real breast. And Faith had no intention of getting close enough to her fellow officers that they would be able to tell.<p>

Still being back, wondering if any of the officers she passed knew the truth, praying that her wig wouldn't slip, it felt as though the walk upstairs to the locker room went on forever.

The afternoon shift was due to start in just ten minutes, and so the locker room was bustling with officers both coming off the previous shift and coming on to the next. Amongst the group were Faith's fellow officers Steven Gusler, John 'Sully' Sullivan, and her long-time partner, Bosco.

Sully noticed Faith's presence before the others, he called out to her, "Hey Faith, you're back!" He crossed the distance between them, "I like the new haircut, it looks good."

* * *

><p>Soon enough Faith and Bosco were out on patrol in their sector car, 5-5 David. To the best of Bosco's knowledge Faith had taken extended leave to spend time with her family after their initial trip to the Jersey shore; that was the story that Swersky had told anyone who asked after Faith.<p>

As they drove around the streets, Faith reflected, it seemed impossible to her that everything was suddenly so ordinary, the same as it had always been, when she still had cancer, she still was so ill, her body had been knocked in every direction by the surgery and chemotherapy. Her partner sat next to her, oblivious to the battle that her body was fighting every minute, assuming that nothing had changed.

Little did Faith know, she was not the only one in that car going through a personal level of hell. In the time that Faith had been gone, Bosco had been through a number of incidents that combined with 9/11 had left him traumatised. But all too soon Faith would realise that her partner was not the same man he had been before.

* * *

><p>They were going to a shots fired call, Bosco was driving the RMP, while Faith rode in the passenger seat, everything seemed normal to Faith, but then she felt the car swerve. "Damn it, Bosco!" Faith swore in surprise, she turned to her partner, only to find him in the clutches of a panic attack. She tried to grab the steering wheel, avoid the cars that were now swerving to miss them as they careened through the New York City traffic. "Bosco, hit the brakes! Pull over, Bos! Pull over!"<p>

* * *

><p>After several terrifying seconds Faith managed to get the car under her control, and off to the side of the road, she pulled on the handbrake to bring the RMP to a halt. Then Faith could turn her attention to her partner, who was doubled over in his seat, hyperventilating, and screaming in blind panic, panic that had nothing to do with the traffic incident he'd just caused.<p>

Faith put her hand on Bosco's back, comforting him as she tried to figure out what was happening; he wasn't improving, and after a moment, Faith reached for her radio. "5-5 David to central, I've got an officer down, I need an ambulance!"

* * *

><p>Several hours later as Faith waited in the emergency department of Mercy Hospital for news on her partner. Faith was standing at the desk, when Gusler and Sully came in with a perp needing a med clearance, while Gusler took their perp in to be seen by a doctor, Sully came over to speak to Faith, "What're you doing here?" He asked.<p>

Faith was still rattled by the incident, shakily she replied, "Bos is sick, he was having trouble breathing."

Sully gave Faith a knowing look; he had ridden with Bosco a few times while Faith had been on leave, and just days earlier there had been a similar incident involving Bosco. Bosco had been pursuing a bank robbery suspect, just when Bosco had nearly caught him, the suspect threw down the bag that held the stolen money; unbeknown to anyone the bank workers had placed a dye-pack in with the money. The dye-pack had exploded in Bosco's face, triggering a panic attack; Sully and other officers on scene had thought that Bosco was having a heart attack. "We've got to talk."

* * *

><p>So as it turned out Faith wasn't the only one who had been going through a rough time, by the end of her first day back, Faith had heard about more crap than she ever imagined could have happened in her absence.<p>

But still Faith had made it through her first day back.

* * *

><p>The weeks and months that followed seemed to go by in a daze for Faith. Fred had a heart attack in September, he spent close to a month in the ICU, and even now, two weeks later he was still very weak.<p>

Faith nearly lost her husband, but in a strange twist of fate, Fred's illness brought Emily closer to her mother, Emily finally saw what her mother went through every day in the hope that she could make a better life for her children.

Now Faith was back at the chemotherapy unit, having what she hoped would be her final treatment, with her daughter sitting by her side.

The nurse was giving each of the chemotherapeutic drugs, one at a time through the central line in Faith's chest, while Faith and her daughter chatted.

It wasn't easy for Emily to see her mother undergoing the treatment that made her so ill for days to follow; to keep her fears at bay, Emily kept up a constant stream of chatter. Emily didn't stop talking until just as the nurse was unhooking the empty saline bag from Faith's line, her mother's cell phone rang.

Though Faith was feeling queasy as a result of the treatment, she answered her phone, "Faith Yokas."

"Sergeant Matthews here, Officer. We have a shortage on the afternoon shift, I am aware that it is short notice, but can you come in?"

Even then Faith knew that it was a bad idea, but if she said no, questions would be asked; she was so close to finishing this without anyone from work knowing that it ever happened, there was no way that she was risking that happening now. "Yeah, I can come in. No worries."

As soon as Faith ended the call, Emily commented, "You can't work today, Mom. You're going to be-" Emily didn't have a chance to finish her sentence, as her mother was suddenly doubling over an emesis basin, retching painfully.

* * *

><p>It was just an hour into the shift, Faith and Bosco finished up the report of a property damage only traffic incident, already they could tell that it was going to be one of those days.<p>

They were heading to the next call, a domestic, Bosco was driving erratically, and that didn't help Faith to control the feelings of sickness that she was having. "Bos, take it easy would you? I'm not feeling so great."

"Just another couple of blocks," Bosco was in the zone, it was as though he didn't even hear Faith.

Faith could feel bile rising in her throat. "Damn it, Bos! I said slow down, it's not even an urgent call!" Faith yelled at her partner, still nothing, and she couldn't wait any longer, she was going to be sick. "Pull over right now!" Faith clamped her hand over her mouth.

Bosco finally realised that Faith wasn't alright; he pulled the RMP to the side of the road, before Bosco had even brought the car to a complete stop, Faith bolted out of the car, to a nearby garbage can.

Bosco grabbed the car keys, and wandered over to his partner, who had an iron grip on the sides of the bin, still vomiting. Truth be told, when he first saw his partner being sick, Bosco thought that she was pregnant again, and he said exactly that as soon as Faith was upright.

Faith's response was quite simple, though indignant, "I'm not pregnant, Bos."

"Are you sure, coz you've been sick a lot lately, ever since you came back from Jersey actually. What, did you and Fred get in some time together down there?"

"I said I'm not pregnant, Bosco. Drop it," Faith insisted, she would have continued, but the nausea was coming back. She held up a hand, telling Bosco to back off, as the dry heaves just kept coming.

* * *

><p>Finally Faith felt the nausea ease, still she didn't feel great, and she knew that she never should have come to work today. It was clear to Faith that her partner needed to know why she was not able to keep up; it would be dangerous to keep it a secret, knowing that if anything she was only going to get worse as the day went on.<p>

Faith led Bosco back over to their RMP, she turned to him, and took hold of his jacket sleeves to steady him in preparation, as she told him, "I'm not pregnant, Bos, that's not what's wrong with me."

"Alright, what is it then?" Bosco asked in reply, he saw the expression on his partner's face, the pain in her eyes, and he knew that this was something very serious, "Are you okay, Faith? Tell me."

Faith tried to offer Bosco a reassuring smile, but it fell somewhat short. "...I'm sick. I've got cancer, Bos."

"Cancer?" Bosco murmured, shocked, "Are you gonna be okay?"

Then Faith managed a smile, "I had my last chemo session this morning. I'm going to be okay."

"That's why you've been sick, taking all that leave... Right?"

"Yeah."

"So, all that time when we all thought you were in Jersey with Fred and the kids, you were in hospital because you have cancer? Why the hell didn't you tell me, Faith? We're partners," The hurt in Bosco's voice was unmistakeable.

"I know that, Bos, and I'm sorry. It's been a hell of a couple of months. Back when I first found out the doctors thought it was just a small lump, they didn't even know if it was cancer, it wasn't until they got in there; they had to take the whole breast. I know that we're partners, I know that I shouldn't have kept it from you, but I've been so sick, and nothing's been the same at home, so when I came back to work it was just so good to have a few hours when everything just felt normal."

Bosco pulled Faith into a hug, seeing the tears forming in her eyes. "Don't you ever keep something like this from me again, Faith, please," Bosco pulled back just enough to look Faith in the eye, "You're sure that you're alright now, right?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>The End.<strong>_

_**Thanks for reading! Please take a moment to drop me a review.**_


End file.
